Yesterday at Steven’s Pass, Mike, Annie and I boarded a chairlift with what turned out to be a very precocious 7-year-old, who was wearing a helmet covered in neon-pink spandex in the shape of a pig’s head. The following is as true a story as I can retell without the aid of a digital recorder.

Annie: The conditions are pretty much perfect. If it was snowing I wouldn’t even be here.

Abby: Really? Because of visibility, or the —

Pig Helmet Girl: LOOK! SKI SCHOOLERS!

Annie: Uh, yeah…there’s some ski schoolers down there…do you take lessons?

Pig Helmet Girl: NO. I don’t need them.

Annie: Oh, that’s great! How long have you been skiing?

Pig Helmet Girl: Since I was one and three-quarters.

Abby: Wow. That’s young.

Mike: I don’t think I was even walking.

Annie: I think I started when I was like 12 or so, which, honestly, was sooo long ago.

Pig Helmet Girl: How old ARE you?

Annie: Twenty-five. Old. I’m so old.

Mike: You’re old balls.

Abby: Inappropriate.

Pig Helmet Girl: I KNOW WHAT THAT MEANS.

Abby: (silence, pretending this isn’t happening)

Abby: (deciding to finally address the pig helmet) I like your helmet!